So, with sparkling eyes, she pressed the three gold coins into the sufferer’s burning hand, and told her that the village authorities would rear the twins for such a sum.  Then the parched lips of the fevered woman lauded the merciful kindness bestowed by the lame ropedancer—­who at that moment seemed to her as powerful as a queen—­so warmly and tenderly that Kuni felt the blood again mount into her cheeks—­this time with shame at the praise which she deserved so little, yet which rendered her so happy.  Finally, the sufferer expressed a desire for a priest, that she might not pass from earth without a sacrament.  Her sins oppressed her sorely.  She, and she alone, was to blame for Nickel’s being hanged.  Never in all her life had she been a glutton; but before the birth of the twins the devil had tormented her with a strange longing for roast fowl, which she had been unable to repress and keep to herself.  Solely for her gratification, Nickel stole the goose and the hens.  In spite of many a bad business in which his reckless nature had involved him, he was a good fellow, with a loving heart.

For her sake he would have tried to steal the ring from the executioner’s finger.  Now he had gone into the other world unshriven, with the rope about his neck, for though the benefit of the sacrament was usually granted even to the worst criminals, the peasants strung Nickel up to the nearest tree as soon as they caught him, without heeding his entreaties.  This made death even harder for her than the thought of the poor little creatures yonder in the bundle of rags.  Kuni’s charity had provided for the orphans, but her Nickel would find no mercy from the heavenly Judge throughout eternity.

She had sobbed aloud as she spoke, and then writhed in such violent convulsions that Kuni with difficulty prevented her from throwing herself out of the hot straw in the cart upon the damp meadow.

When she grew somewhat calmer, she repeated Nickel’s name again and again till it was heartrending to hear her.

CHAPTER IX.

As soon as the sufferer’s condition would permit, Kuni left her, went to the window of the taproom in The Blue Pike, and surveyed its inmates.

Most of them were already asleep on heaps of straw, which were raised at the head by chairs turned upside down.  The richer guests had gone to the bedrooms, which, however, they were obliged to share with several others.  Some of the strollers were lying on the floor with their knapsacks under their heads.  A few of the musicians were still lingering over the wine which the travelling merchants and artisans had ordered for them.  Others had gone with some of the vagrants into the little wood beyond the meadow, where they danced, fiddled, and sang.

Their loud shouts were borne by the cool night breeze to the sufferer in the cart.  The gentlemen from Cologne, without troubling themselves about the boisterous merriment of the burghers or the transformation of the room into a sleeping apartment, were still sitting at the table talking together eagerly.